Power Corrupts: Divine Promises (Patreon)

I’m not hungry. I haven’t been hungry since I found myself here, I thought as I walked through the streets of Orario. Between dying, fighting and just walking around the city, by now I should be starving. And yet, I wasn’t even peckish despite not eating for a day and a half. Not so much as a cracker or apple or anything. 

Same with being thirsty. I was really thankful that I picked Natural Deodorant because I must have sweated gallons down in the Dungeon. Steel armor didn’t exactly breathe, after all. Without Natural Deodorant, I would absolutely reek. Maybe I already did -- I was nose blind to my own scent, and unless it made sweat smell like flowers or something. Hopefully, that was the case. 

“Gamer Body,” I muttered aloud, walking back towards the Tower of Babel. I was still figuring out how it worked, but my Skill had changed me in ways I hadn’t really expected. Could I ever get hungry? Thirsty? Did I need to sleep? I mean, I could, but did I need it? I hadn’t felt tired when I fell asleep last night, so I might not need any of the most basic needs of humanity. I could still do them, but I didn’t need them. 

That, I wasn’t sure how I felt about. 

A sigh escaped me as I ran a hand through my black hair, pushing it out of my face. I know it looked good, but maybe I should have picked a shorter hairstyle. Or I should put it into a braid or something. I had short hair for most of my life, putting any real effort into my hair was a new experience for me. 

Straightening out my appearance, my nice button-down a harsh contrast to my torn and bloodied blue jeans, I started to trudge up the stairs and reentered the Guild. I scanned the crowd, seeing some familiar faces. Too many familiar faces. Right. I should have waited longer to come back here. That way the crowd that witnessed that scene would have cleared out. 

“Hello Jericho,” I heard someone call out to my right. Glancing over, I saw it was Misha. Her eyes darted to my legs, likely spotting the bandages visible between the tears to cover up the fact that my legs were fine. Best keep how fast I heal under wraps for as long as I could. 

“Hey,” I greeted, “sorry about leaving. Hestia…”

Misha laughed lightly, “you don’t have to apologize, I understand. Your goddess seems to worry quite a bit about you already,” she noted, her tone warm. 

“She does,” I agreed with a lopsided smile. “Thank you for pointing me in her direction. I really do appreciate it.”

Misha shook her head, “no, I’m glad just glad you were able to keep your promise.” She said, her eyes darting down again at my pants, “though, she might have a reason to be so worried.” She commented lightly, gesturing at my lower body. 

“Eh, it looks a lot worse than it actually is.” I dismissed, feeling more than a little embarrassed. It was just...goblins did this to me. The weakest monster there was. “I, ah, kinda got swarmed by a bunch of them on my way back.”

Misha frowned, “swarmed? By how many?”

I shrugged, “about eight of them spawned when I reached the entrance to the second floor. Then groups of three or more kept popping up on my way back.” Now Misha looked flat out worried, making me frown right back at her. “I’m guessing that’s not normal?”

“No, not at all. Well, not for the first floor at least,” she explained. “Were they pre spawned or did they come out of the walls? Did you wear any kind of monster bait? Can you tell me exactly how many spawned, or even just a general guess? I haven’t heard of any unusual monster mobs from other rookies-, so did you happen to kill them as well?” Misha asked rapid-fire questions, her tone suddenly going all business. 

“Uh,” I started intelligently. “They were coming out of the walls, no, around thirty or so on my way back and I killed them all,” I answered, earning a firm nod from Misha as she made a note on a pad that she pulled from her vest. Then she paused, looking up at me. 

“Thirty?” She questioned, looking surprised. Huh. Maybe I could salvage some of my dignity. Apparently what I dealt with was well outside the norm. I mean, it wasn’t good because the Dungeon was making an extra effort to murder me, but, you know, it means I sucked a little bit less than I thought I did. 

“Yeah, somewhere around there. I killed just over forty in total,” I summarized with a nod. Misha hesitantly wrote that down, unsure if she could believe me. I hoped she would give me the benefit of the doubt. The last thing I needed was for her to think I was lying to impress her or something. 

“But, you are right that Hestia should be worried. Is worried. I was actually hoping to get my hands on some leg armor before I went back down there since everything on the first floor can only chew on my ankles.” I said, nudging us away from the topic. 

Misha nodded, “I looked into our stock after you left with your goddess, but we don’t have anything in your size.” She said, earning a small blink from me. That was surprisingly attentive of her. “You’ll have to contact a smith about making a custom order.”

I nodded, “I figured I would have to.” At 7’5, 325 pounds of muscle, it was just a fact of life that most stores would have any ready stock for me. “Since you helped me with Hestia, I was actually hoping you could help me find a smith. A Welf Corozo?” I asked with a smile that I hoped came off as charming.

Misha cocked an eyebrow, “already looking to get your hands on a magic sword?” She teased, making my smile grow. 

“As much as goblins irritate me, I’m not annoyed enough nuke them with hellfire. Yet,” I returned. “I’ve just heard good things about his light armor, and, uh, he’s in my price range,” I explained, stretching the truth. 

It worked going by Misha’s nod. “I can help you with that. It’ll take a second to find where his workshop is, but since he’s a member of the Hesphustus familia, odds are it’ll be somewhere outside of the city walls.” That made sense, from what I remembered Welf lived in a shack that doubled as a forage. 

“And,” I started, making Misha pause, “could I also get some reading material about...you know, how not to die in the Dungeon? I’m not really sure what I would need to know…” I admitted, earning another firm nod from Misha. 

“Yeah, easily! Actually, I could arrange some study lessons if you're serious about it," Misha offered, getting a nod from me. 

"That sounds great. Thank you," I agreed.

"Great, now let me get your forms and books," Misha said, dashing off behind a counter, out of sight, with a pep in her step. I saw Eina follow her not long after. With nothing better to do, I took a seat in the waiting room, sinking into a too soft couch to the point that there was probably going to be a permanent indentation of me.

After twiddling my thumbs for a few minutes, wishing I had a phone or something to entertain me, Misha came back with a tall pile of books in her hands. Her hands cupped at her waist, the tower stretched all the way up to her nose. Quickly getting up and taking the stack from her, I noticed that the forms were on top. 

“It’s a little much,” Misha admitted, “but everything in here is really valuable information on the upper floors. If you know all of it inside and out, I promise you that you’ll have a much easier time if you apply what you learned in the Dungeon.” 

“I’ll learn it all,” I promised. Not only would it help me, you know, not die, but there was the possibility of skill books. Even if there weren’t any, then these should help me start grinding my Intelligence stat. 

“Good! And this is the address to Mr. Corozo’s workshop. I don’t know if he’s in or not, though,” Misha said, placing a note with the girliest handwriting I had ever seen on top of the pile. “Anything else?”

“Nothing comes to mind. Thank you again for all your help Misha,” I said, starting to turn to leave. 

“It’s what I’m here for!”

I smiled a goodbye, walking out of the Guild with a new destination in mind. As soon as I could, I dumped all of the stuff into my inventory before summoning my map. Now that I wasn’t in the Dungeon, the map was a lot less complete. It was a vast map that was mostly left blank except for the paths I had walked. 

The blip that marked Welf’s workshop was ways out the way, giving me a general direction but not much else. Exactly like a typical RPG. 

I slowly made my way through the city, taking my time to explore the other districts to get as much of the map filled in as I could. Looping back to fill in a small blank spot in a game was annoying, doing it in real life would be infuriating. Shops eventually gave way to a housing district, then to a park, then to more shops, then more houses. Eventually, I saw the walls of Orario grow near, a massive ornate gate cut out to let people leave. 

“Ais! Look at these! You’d look ssuuuuuuper cute with them,” a loud voice managed to cut through the general chatter of the city. Glancing over at the source, interested by the name, I saw a short deeply tanned girl, dark brown hair that brushed against her shoulders. She wore a white tube top that covered a modest bust. Very modest. A tan skirt was tied off at her waist, the back of it dipping down to her ankles while the front was tied into a bow. 

She was speaking to a slightly shorter golden-haired girl. Her hair dipped down to her lower back that was left exposed. A white dress covered her front, dipping down to loop around into a short skirt that was black on the back half. Her slender legs were covered by royal blue boots, leaving only a couple of inches of thigh exposed. 

Ah. Ais Wallenstein and Tiona Hiryute. Loki familia. I think at this point, both of them were Level 5s. 

Ais said something back that I couldn’t hear, her golden eyes blank as her expression. Tiona was far more expressive, waving around a pair of earrings, making her own numerous golden necklaces clink loudly. 

“Come on! We’re about to spend two weeks in the Dungeon, they won’t be here by the time we get back.” She protested, holding the earring up on each side of Ais’ head, her hands were in the way so I couldn’t see what they looked like. 

Ais said something else, her lips moving but I sucked at lip-reading. And I lacked a subtitles function. 

Tiona groaned, passing the earrings back to a disappointed looking vendor. “No fun. They would have looked really nice on you,” the tanned girl pouted, puffing out her cheeks as she crossed her surprisingly defined arms. The two of them started to walk my way, Ais’ eyes going forward, then flicking up to look at my face. 

She blinked once and other than that, there was nothing else. I walked towards the two of them as they chatted -- well, Tiona chatted at Aiz. During the split second we walked past each other, I half expected one of them to say something. Neither did, leaving each other in peace. 

Neat. I met more main characters. Well, met might be a strong word, but the point stood. 

Still, two weeks until canon would start since they were coming back from the expedition at the start of the anime. Though...speaking of main characters, what about Bell? Shouldn’t he be showing up soon? He and Hestia met...on chance, hadn’t they? She was looking for her first familia member, she saw Bell get rejected, then accepted him into her own. 

Except she wouldn’t be looking for her first familia member. So she wouldn’t run into Bell. So Bell was…

“Hm,” I hummed, stepping out of the city, letting my map guide me. Should I try to find him? Bring him in? He was the protagonist after all. More than that, of all the harem protagonists in anime, he was one of the few that I actually liked. Mostly because if there was ever a justification for a harem obsessed horndog, then being raised by Zeus was it. 

I thought about it as I walked towards Welf’s workshop. I gave it a good long think. There were good reasons for including him. It wasn’t guaranteed that he would get Liaris Freese, which was probably the most overpowered Skill in this setting. Once he leveled up a couple of times, between the two of us, the Hestia familia would be fairly formidable. Not to mention that he had the attention of several important gods, like Zeus and Hermes.  

But...at the same time...well...Hestia fell in love with Bell in canon. 

“I need to stop thinking with my dick,” I told myself, putting a pin in the issue for now. Welf’s workshop was completely unassuming. The grass that surrounded a small building was tall, hiding a stone path. The house itself was compact, only a brick chimney and piles of wood marked it as anything other than a hastily built shack. 

“At least he’s home,” I muttered, spotting smoke coming from the chimney. Walking up to the door, I heard the sharp ring of metal banging against metal. I knocked on the door, a little harder than normal to make sure that he heard me, before stepping back. The sound stopped instantly, letting me hear a low curse. 

“Uh, just a minute! I’ll be right there!” Welf yelled out, almost drowned out by something hitting the floor followed by an even louder curse. I heard him stumble his way to the door before it slid open with a bang, revealing a soot streaked man around my age, his short red hair plastered to his face with sweat. 

“Uhhhh…” Welf gaped, his gaze looking up and up and up until he looked me in the eyes. “can...I help you?”

“Yeah, actually,” this time I came prepared. “I was hoping to commission some armor from you. For my legs. But if I came at a bad time…?” I trailed off, slightly unnerved by how Welf kept staring at me. 

“Er, no,” Welf said, straightening up to his full height, bringing him my chest. “I was just finishing up a piece, but...you...want armor from me…?” He stumbled out, looking lost. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

He was suspicious. Corozo magic swords were apparently the equivalent of a nuke in a high fantasy world. I couldn’t imagine how often he must have been bothered by people with good and ill intentions to make one for them. What I did know was that his constant refusal had cost him a great deal, and he accepted the price to save his pride. 

“Do you want the truth or do you want me to kiss your ass?” I asked bluntly, getting a blink of surprise from Welf. He dealt with all kinds of liars, tricksters and traitors, all of them hoping to make him create a magic sword for him for one reason or another. I couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t find blunt honesty refreshing, even if he didn’t like what was said. 

“The truth, then kiss my ass to make it better,” Welf decided, getting a genuine smile out of me. 

“The truth is that I’m pretty broke, and I know you don’t have a lot of customers.” I started honestly, an indignant expression appearing on Welf’s face. “It’s not that you don’t do good work or anything like that. I just know that since everyone only ever wants magic swords, the armor you make gets overlooked-”

“More like shoved in a box and left in the back,” Welf cut in, grumbling, the indignant expression fading. 

I nodded, agreeing with him. “Pretty much. I need some armor for my legs, and you're one of the few I know can make good armor and would be willing to do it for cheap.”

Welf seemed to mull that over for a minute, wiping sweat from his brow with the oversized sleeve of his kimono thing. Slowly, he nodded, “and to make it better?”

“I purchased some of your work before and I can’t imagine myself using anything that wasn’t crafted by your hands,” I said with a smile, earning a smirk and a huff of laughter from Welf. He nodded again, this time more to himself. 

“I guess I should be more careful what I wish for,” he commented to himself, looking up at me again. He stared at me, trying to find any hint of deceit, only to find none. Even still, he asked, “you don’t want a magic sword?”

I shrugged dismissively, “I became an adventurer about five hours ago. What would I use one on?”

That got a full-blown smile out of Welf, his expression warming. “You could want to sell it though,” he countered, still trying to poke a hole in my story even if he didn’t want there to be one. 

“I guess,” I admitted, “but me asking you to make one would imply I have enough money to pay you to make one. And I did mention that I was broke, right? Because that’s kinda important.”

Welf finally gave in, sticking out a hand as a friendly smile tugged at his lips. “Welf Corozo,” he introduced himself. I took his hand, trying to not think about how small if felt in comparison to mine. 

“Jericho,” I returned, shaking his hand firmly. My hand might be bigger, but Welf was a fairly accomplished adventurer despite still being Level 1 and it showed. His grip was like iron. 

“Come in, sorry about the mess, I was finishing off a dagger,” Welf said, stepping into his sweltering home, revealing a messy workshop. Weapons of all sizes lined the walls, the floor was made of dirt darkened with years of soot and ash, a pile of wood was tucked next to a forage that dominated the small building. Tools of all kinds laid around an anvil with a knife laying on top of it. 

“You said you were looking for leg armor? Anything specific you were looking for?” Welf asked, hastily cleaning things to make everything look a little more organized. I pondered the question for a moment, having not thought about that. Did I want anything specific? I just needed armor. 

“I have a black chest piece already, so I guess if it could match that?” I spoke, earning a nod from Welf. 

“I can do that. What kind of black are we talking about here?” Welf asked, grabbing a long tangled piece of string. He fumbled to untie it, letting me think of how I could describe the color black. 

“It’s...that color,” I said, pointing to a patch of built-up soot. It looked about right. 

“I can manage that easily enough. And I’ll need to check your measurements,” Welf said, grabbing one end of the string. Without further ado, he placed one end at the center of my thigh and wrapped it around. I shifted, letting it happen and after a moment, I heard him let out a breath. “Not surprised the Guild didn’t have anything for you,” he noted, marking the string. 

“What kind of armor are you looking for? Light, medium, heavy? Full coverage?” He asked, going down to my calf. 

“I don’t know to be honest. I just need to keep monsters from chewing on my ankles. What would you recommend?” What did I see myself in the future? What was my end goal? In D&D, I always ended up becoming a walking wall of armor, but that didn’t have to be the case here. I wanted mobility. 

In this setting, there were people as fast as lightning. I didn’t know if having thick heavy armor would offer up the kind of protection that I needed. What’s more, being slow and big was a major disadvantage. Look at every boss battle ever -- the big guy that could deal major damage, but since he never hit, none of that mattered. Then his health bar would get chipped down until it hit zero. 

That couldn’t be my fate. I needed to start taking steps now to make sure that it wasn’t. 

“If maximum protection is what you’re looking for, then I’d have to go with heavy armor. I’ll fully encase yours legs, except for your knees for mobility. You can cover up the weakness with some chainmail,” Welf explained, making another mark on the string. 

“Will it affect my mobility?” I asked with a thoughtful frown. I could make up for any loss in Dexterity with training at the moment, but I doubt that would hold for when my stats leave the single digits. From what I’ve seen, most of my stats were going to come from direct combat, exactly as Hestia said. What I used would inevitably become my higher stats. 

But, at the same time, I was ridiculously fragile at the moment. All it would take was a hundred goblin scratches and I’d die. I needed armor. At this point, the more armor the better. 

“Not as much as people think. It’ll weigh you down some, sure, but you’ll still be able to run jump and so on in it. If you’re worried about it, I can leave some space near your waist to make sure you don’t lose any mobility.” Welf offered, getting a hesitant nod from me as he took the measurements of my other leg. From the sounds of it, my mobility in heavy armor would be determined by my strength more than anything else. 

“And how long were you wanting for this armor to last?” Welf said, measuring my entire leg from ankle to waist. “Because I can whip something up in no time flat if you’re just wanting it for the first five floors. None of them really have the strength to actually break armor, so I can make it thinner than normal. That’ll shave off some weight if you’re that worried about mobility. After the fifth floor, though, it won’t hold up. Killer ants will rip through it no problem.”

I made it to the entrance of the second floor in a few hours. I did get swarmed by goblins and I handled them with relative ease. The second floor was where more monsters started spawning, in bigger numbers and different types. Things were going to get a lot more difficult on that floor. 

“Eh, don’t do that. Might as well get as much mileage as possible out of it,” I said with a shake of my head. 

Welf stood up, writing down my measurements and nodding to himself. “Now for the fun part. Let’s talk price,” he said, turning to face me, crossing his arms. “You did say you were broke, so I’m guessing you want it made out of steel?”

Feeling faintly embarrassed, I nodded. “Whatever is cheapest,” I agreed, wanting to cross my arms but not wanting to copy Welf. That would be awkward. “As for price...I’m going to be really honest here, I have absolutely no idea what I should be paying you.”

Welf barked a laugh as he shook his head, “you’re not supposed to be honest when you’re bartering.” He reminded more laughter in his voice. He uncrossed his arms, scratching at his short red hair before giving a small shrug. “I tend to favor making light armor, and to cover your legs, I’ll use enough steel for two sets. How about...7,500?” 

...Wasn’t that nearly the same amount that he charged for the armor Bell ended up wearing? For an entire set of light armor?

“That’s just the amount of steel, though, right? You aren’t actually making two sets of light armor, so that should bump the price down a little bit?” I said though it came out like a question. Welf nodded at that, pinching his chin with soot-stained fingers. 

“I’m not, but it’s going to take some time to make it. Making good heavy plate takes longer to make than light armor,” Welf said. I didn’t think that was true, but I didn’t know if it was or not. It could be. I knew exactly nothing about blacksmithing. “But...I’ll bump off another 500 valis.”

I was getting ripped off, wasn’t I? Worse, I didn’t know enough to call him on it. I guess Welf had a very different business sense when I was coming to him instead of him coming to me. 

“Alright, sounds fine to me,” I agreed, swallowing my irritation. “I don’t have all of it on me right now, but here, take this as a down payment,” I said, holding out my earnings for today. Welf took it, checking inside. 

I half expected him to make a comment about the pitiful amount but it seemed admitting that I was broke stopped him. Thankfully. I really didn't want to blow through our savings already.

"Appreciate it, big guy. I'll go ahead and start on it. Should be done in about five days or so." Well said, tucking his newfound wealth away. 

"Sounds good. See you in five days then," I said, shaking Welf’s hand again and saying goodbye. I stepped out of his workshop, as poor as I started this morning, and the door slid shut behind me. I looked up at the sky, seeing the sun was still firmly hanging above. Checking my time, I saw that it was nearly 3 o'clock.

"It's been a long day," I missed, walking back towards the city. Part of me wanted to head back home, crawl in bed with Hestia and let the rest of the day pass me by. My laid-back instincts told me I had done enough for one day. 

If I hadn't spent over 5000 valis that I didn't have, I might have gone home. Instead, my eyes found the Tower of Babel, the white spire stretching up until it pierced the clouds. With a tired sigh, I set a waypoint.

As long of a day as it has, it wasn't over yet.

…

"Don't be burnt, don't be burnt, don't be burnt-!" Hestia whispered desperately, flipping a piece of meat suspended over a wood fed stove. It flipped over to reveal an uncomfortably dark underside, making her suck down a low gasp. "No! No, no, no!" 

Swiftly taking it off, she deposited it on to a plate of slightly mushy rice and vegetables. Her heart plummeted to her stomach -- it was hardly the picture-perfect meal she imagined when she decided to cook dinner for Jericho. Especially when she splurged a little to buy a nice cut of steak from the Ninsun familia. She had it all planned out perfectly in her head; Jericho would come back from a long day of errands, tired and hungry, then he would be greeted by the smell of her delicious Food before he descended the steps into their home. 

She would have it all laid out for him, ready to eat with a warm tea to help wash it all down. He would light up, smiling at her in a way that showed off his staring white teeth, and he would eat every single last bite because it was too good not too. After he was done, he would look at her and say something like 'that was the best thing I have ever tasted.' Or something like that.

Jericho seemed to have a habit of saying exactly what she wanted to hear, even when she had no idea she wanted to hear them so desperately.

Instead, she had...this. "I stopped looking for one second!" She shouted, panicked and annoyed. A watched pot may never boil but an unwatched meal is quick to burn, it would seem. “Maybe if I…” Hestia began, grabbing a knife to start scraping off the worst burnt bits off. It worked. Sort of. Then she checked inside to make sure that it was cooked through, what she saw made her heart and stomach drop to her feet. 

“It’s not done on the inside?! It’s burnt through, how can it not be done on the inside?!” Hestia demanded to know, double-checking another spot to see there was still pink left inside. Had Ninsun cheated her? Did she give her some cheap slab of meat instead of the expensive kind like she asked for?

Hestia looked at the fire again, wondering if she should cook it for a little longer. It was already so burnt though...if she messed it up even more, then she might end up serving him charcoal. If she did that, then Hestia was going to end up crying. Again. 

“It’s fine,” Hestia said, trying to will it to be the truth. She was so tempted to use her arcanum, it was such a simple fix...but as soon as she did it, then she would get booted back to Heaven. So, she was left with burnt yet undercooked steak, with overcooked vegetables. “At least I didn’t mess up the tea.” 

A sigh escaped her, seeming to deflate her entirely as she walked the plate to their table, setting it to a steaming cup of tea. With how her luck was going, it would be cold by the time Jericho got back. She slumped into the couch, idly noting that she could feel indent where Jericho had slept last night. 

Again, memories of what happened this morning replayed in her mind, making her blush and fiddle where she sat. Then she let out a small, depressed laugh, “what must he think of me?” She wondered, fiddling with the hem of her dress. Hestia had good guesses. “A crybaby and a harlot,” she decided dejectedly. 

What else had she done since meeting him? She...touched his penis and ended up crying her heart out twice in the day they’ve known each other. Whereas he seemed to impress her more and more every time he opened his mouth. 

“Some goddess I am,” Hestia muttered, pouting as she slumped in her seat, her gaze patiently fixated on the stairway, waiting for her child to come home. Minutes ticked by, her gaze glancing over at the dayglass to see that it was nearing 5 o’clock. Should she read a book to help pass the time? No, she wanted to greet him standing and guide him to his meal. She wanted to do that much, at least. 

Another sigh escaped her, watching the grains of sand fall as she kept an ear out for the door. Watching them fall with half-lidded eyes-

…

The sound of the heavy door scraping the floor woke Hestia up. Her eyes butterflied open, a yawn leaving her as she shifted in her seat. Rubbing gunk from her eyes, she opened them fully to see Jericho-

“Oh,” Hestia lunged to her feet, scrambling up to her feet. Luckily, Jericho was so tall that she had just enough time to smooth out her dress before he saw her sleeping on the couch. When he entered their home fully, he looked over at her with an easy smile, and she found herself smiling back at him. “I made you dinner!” She blurted, wincing at her delivery. 

“Thank you Hestia, I haven’t eaten all day,” Jericho said, shifting something in his hands. Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. 

Then she noticed the pile of books in his hands. Instantly, she went to grab some of them, eyeing the covers, “101 ways to kill goblins?” She read aloud, setting the pile of books off to the side. The others were in the same vein -- monsters and how to deal with them. 

“Hm, Misha let me borrow them. I figured I needed every advantage I could get,” Jericho said, taking a seat in front of his meal. Hestia traced the spines of the books, fighting off a twinge of jealousy. This Misha girl was simply doing her job as Jericho’s guild advisor. If she should be annoyed with anyone, it should be herself for not thinking of it first. “There’s also some forms for you to fill out.”

Hestia spotted them, turning to face Jericho to see him grab a knife and a fork. He went to cut into his steak, only to pause. In that split second, Hestia’s heart jumped all the way from her feet to her throat and nearly leaped out of her entirely. Jericho turned to her, bowing his head, “Thank you for the meal. Did you already eat?”

“I did,” Hestia lied. “Did you find out anything about some armor?” Hestia asked, changing the subject as she pretended that she wasn’t watching Jericho cut into his steak like a hawk. He cut a sliver off, popping it into his mouth and...there was no look of euphoria that she had hoped for He didn’t spit it out, though, and that was good enough for her at this point. 

“I did, I commissioned some from Welf Corozo. They should be done in about five days,” he said, swallowing and following it up with a sip of his tea. “It’s going to cost about 5,500,” Jericho, earning a wince out of her like he punched her in the stomach. She tried to hide it but apparently he was watching her like she was him.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Jericho dismissed, reaching to his belt after taking another bite of his steak and another sip of his tea. He pulled out a coin purse that looked like it had some weight to it. “I made a down payment of about 1,500 and I made another 1000.” 

Hestia’s eyes went so wide they could have fallen out of her head, “you made 2,500 valis in one trip?!” She couldn’t stop herself from shouting, stunned by the number. That was...so much! She barely made 500 valis a week at her stall! Did all adventurers make that much?! Her stunned amazement faded somewhat when Jericho shook his head, scooping nearly all of the rice into his mouth before washing it down with more tea. 

“No, I went back to the Dungeon after I talked to Welf-”

“You went back down there?” Hestia interjected, stepping forward. “But you’re hurt!” She reminded him, looking down at his ripped and torn pants, or rather the white bandages that laid underneath. His pants looked to be in even worse condition now, another half dozen of cuts between each leg. 

Jericho chewed his vegetables for a moment before swallowing them down with some trouble. After drinking more tea, nearly leaving his cup empty, he nodded. “I did, but I’m not hurt,” he explained, earning a bewildered look from Hestia. What did he mean he wasn’t- 

Hestia eeped when Jericho stood up, unbuttoning his pants. She felt herself blush all the way down to her toes, watching him shrug off his pants, her shock turning to concern when she saw the blood. Then it became shock again when he peeled off one of the bloodied bandages, revealing smooth skin underneath. 

“What…?” Hestia whispered, her feet carrying her forward. She traced a line where she thought the wound would be based on the bloodstain on the bandage. There was only smooth skin under her finger. “Did you drink a health potion?” Had he run into Micah? She hadn’t told him that Jericho was her familia member yet, but knowing him, he was probably handing out potions at a street corner. 

“I think it’s because of my Skill Gamer Body,” Jericho explained, peeling off the other bandages to reveal more smooth skin underneath. His colorful underwear marked with hearts was bloodied at the hem. He would need new underwear too, Hestia made a mental note even as her mind tried to wrap her head around this. 

“I...think that makes sense. I don’t know what else it could be,” Hestia admitted, feeling like she was in completely over her head. If he drank a potion, then this wouldn’t be surprising at all. Depending on the quality of the health potion, even fatal wounds could be healed by drinking one. But to heal this fast because of bandages?

Her mistake was taking on entirely new consequences that she hadn’t foreseen. Hestia was worried that she might have impacted how he could level up, or what those other stats would mean, but this was...her blessing had changed his body. A good change, one that let him heal so quickly without needing expensive healing potions, but that wasn’t what worried her. 

How else had his body changed? What else had she unknowingly done to her child?

“Don’t look so worried,” Jericho instructed, gently grabbing her hand that still touched his lower thigh. “This probably one of the best things that could have happened. I’m still figuring the Skill out, but I’m not really seeing a downside. To any of it,” he spoke truthfully, putting the edge of her worries at ease. The rest of them still lurked under the surface. 

He squeezed her hand, “how about we update my status? I think I made some gains,” he said. Hestia recognized it for the change of topic that it was, but she gave a shallow nod all the same. He flashed a smile at her, pulling off his tanktop. After he took it off, for a few blissful moments, Hestia forgot her worries. 

“I think you’ll need to get on the bed,” Hestia pointed out when he started to lay down on it, his legs hanging off at the knee. She would imagine it would be really uncomfortable when she got on his back. Jericho nodded, getting up, and moving to her bed, and she was forced to swallow a laugh. Even then, his legs hung off.

She climbed on top of him, fetching the pin to prick her finger. His status was tattooed in the center of his back, she would fix that soon enough. With a drop of divine blood, light rippled out across his back like water, her falna glowing as it lifted off his back, revealing his new experiences. She coaxed the experiences into numbers, increasing his stats and making him grow stronger. 

“Done,” Hestia said, pushing a piece of paper to his back, making the flight fade as his status was copied to it. Peeling the paper off, Hestia looked at it. 

Jericho

Level: 1

Progress to level 2: 82/1,000,000

Strength: 2

Endurance: 13 

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: 2 

Sense: 6

Development Abilities:

Physical Resistance: The user receives 1% less damage. Effectiveness is determined by the Endurance stat. 

Skills:

Gamer Body: The user’s body is that of a video game.

Massage: Skilled hands make targets tension and exhaustion melt away. Effectiveness is determined by Dexterity and Strength stat.

Hestia’s eyes zeroed in on a new slot called Development Abilities. Abilities that could be improved similar to a stat, making them grow stronger the more they were used and their effectiveness increasing each time the user leveled up. There were plenty of common ones like Blacksmith, or Mixing, each rank up letting the user create more impressive things. Then there were more rare ones, like Mystery, that let the user create things that were worthy of legends. 

The issue was, it was supposed to be impossible for a level 1 to have one. Development Abilities could only be gained from level 2 and up. 

She couldn’t tell anyone about this, Hestia realized with no small amount of panic. The other gods wouldn’t just accuse her of cheating and send her back to Heaven, but Jericho would be in danger. As much as they would shout at her for messing up, breaking the game balance, they would wage war against each other to have Jericho in their familia. Hestia couldn’t even go to Hesphstus, because as much as she was her friend, the red-headed god would know that Hestia had accidenly upset the delicate balance in Oraion. 

Numbly, Hestia got off Jericho as her mind raced. What did she do? Did she just keep hiding the truth and hoped no one noticed? How long would that last? Jericho would have to get his Status confirmed by the Guild when he inevitably leveled up…

“Oh, Physical Resistance?” Jericho said, looking over her shoulder down at the slip of paper, blissfully unaware of how lost Hestia felt. “That’s going to be useful,” he commented, her bed shifting under his considerable weight. He smelled like cinnamon. And, despite herself, Hestia agreed. 

Taking less damage? Did that mean if he got it up to 100%, would he be immune to physical attacks? She heard of Magic Resistance and Abnormal Resistance, but never physical resistance. That Skill alone would plunge this city into chaos if anyone ever learned about it. 

“And Massage,” Jericho said, not sounding surprised that there was a Skill there. Probably because he didn’t know Skills weren’t that easy to get. Skills were meant to be slowly shaped, coaxed out of the child’s soul through repetition.

But, maybe this was a good thing. It couldn’t last, but for now, it meant that Jericho could advance at an incredible pace. Maybe he would be strong enough to protect himself when this inevitably blew up in her face. 

“I think it looks pretty good for my first status update,” Jericho decided, smiling down at her. Hestia smiled back at him, trying to push her troubled thoughts to the side. He didn’t know. To protect him, she couldn’t let him know. When the gods came knocking, demanding that she go back to Heaven, he would be able to answer honestly that he had no clue about her mistake. 

“It does, I think it’s really good progress for a day’s work,” Hestia said, folding the paper. She would have to burn it later. She looked up at him, and only then did it dawn on her that she was sitting on a bed with a man wearing nothing but his underwear. 

“And it was a long day. I’m glad it’s over,” Jericho said, earning a look from her. Was over? It should only be- Hestia’s eyes widened when she glanced t the day glass, seeing that the top was nearly empty. It was nearly 10 o’clock. She slept for five hours. The meal that she made was over five hours old. 

“Oh,” Hestia muttered, unsure how to feel as she looked at the empty plate. It would have tasted bad when she made it, and he ate it cold. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s your day off. I’ll take care of the dishes,” Jericho offered, getting up before she could say anything. What she would say, she didn’t know. “And, do we have a way to wash my clothes? They need a good soak.” He asked, distracting her from her growing insecurities. 

“Um,” Hestia hesitated, before nodding. “We do! I usually just fill up a bucket and lather them up a little bit before letting my dress soak overnight. Here,” Hestia explained, gathering up his clothes. It was hard to believe that all they were was a pair of pants and a tank top. They barely fit in her washing bucket. 

“Thanks,” Jericho said, finishing off the dish and grabbing a bar of soap. Hestia noticed the embarrassed expression on his face, and when he caught her look, his face got redder. “Well, all of my clothes need to be washed. All of them,” he clarified, gesturing to his underwear as well. That would mean he would sleeping naked- oh. 

“R-right,” Hestia said, looking away down at his now soaking clothes. He was telling her this because he didn’t want her molesting him in his sleep like she did this morning. “T-then I’ll go ahead and go to bed!” Hestia decided, standing up and all but sprinting to her bed. She dove behind the covers, the only sound she could hear was her heartbeat thundering in her chest. 

Then she heard the sound of cloth on flesh, a subtle sound that she never would have paid any mind to. She noticed it now because there was now a naked man standing less than ten feet away from her. Hestia swallowed thickly, the image of his hard penis at the forefront of her mind. Would it be hard again? Would...she had to rub it again?

If she was going to look, then she missed her chance. The sound of the couch groaning underneath Jericho’s weight echoed throughout the small room. After he settled in, Jericho let out a breath, likely blowing out the candle the illuminated the room. 

“Goodnight Hestia,” Jericho said, prompting Hestia to poke her head out of the covers. She looked over at him, seeing that he curled up slightly so his legs weren’t danging off the edge. Though, his knees were by a dangerous amount. 

“Goodnight Jericho,” Hestia returned, wide awake as she settled against her pillow. The events of the day running through her mind. Not just what happened this morning, but what happened at the Guildhall. The promise he made rang in her head like a bell. 

She smiled lightly, turning in her bed so she could look at her child. It was a bad angle, but she knew that his wild mane of hair would be covering some of his face. And underneath that thin blanket was a sculpted body left bare.

“Thank you,” Hestia whispered underneath her breath. What exactly she was thanking him for, not even she knew. Though, if she had to guess, it was because she didn’t feel alone anymore. 

And she never would again.